


The Deathsaurus Dossier

by Enfilade



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Asexual Kaon, Drug use mention, Gossip, M/M, Murder, Secrets, Tarn/Kaon amica endura, alcohol mention, self harm mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 15:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enfilade/pseuds/Enfilade
Summary: Helex goes digging for dirt on Tarn's new ally, but it's Kaon who winds up with unanswered questions.





	The Deathsaurus Dossier

“I want to see Deathsaurus’s file,” Helex said. 

Kaon instantly found the statement suspicious. Helex never set foot in the computer room of the _Peaceful Tyranny_ unless Tarn ordered him to. Out of all the DJD, Helex hated paperwork the most. And officially, all the DJD’s files were now marked “suspended” with the exception of one: Megatron’s. There was little authorized work to be done in any of the other files. 

“How come?” Kaon asked guardedly from his seat at his specially configured workstation. 

“Er,” Helex said. “Have you…” He leaned in closer. “Have you seen how Deathsaurus looks at Tarn?” 

“Stupid question,” Tesarus remarked from his seat nearby. He was allegedly running virus scans on the DJD’s personal tablets, but Kaon could hear the music of a video game and knew that Tesarus was playing while he waited for the scans to finish. 

Kaon decided to get Tesarus back for the wisecrack. He hadn’t _seen_ anything in the traditional sense for a very long time, but his sensor suite ensured that he was far from ignorant of things going on around him. “My echolocation tells me that Deathsaurus’s head turns every time Tarn walks by. But I think Helex is referring to what their EM fields do whenever they’re in the same room.” 

“Gross,” Tesarus said. 

“What _do_ their EM fields do?” Helex asked with a quaver in his voice, as though he already knew he wouldn’t like the answer. 

“Like electromagnets,” Kaon said, holding his hands shoulder width apart, and then slamming them together with a loud clap. 

“Ewww,” Helex groaned. 

“That’s _disgusting_ ,” Tesarus said. 

“I don’t see why it’s such a concern to you two.” Really, Helex and Tesarus should be able to sympathize with Tarn and Deathsaurus on the topic of sexual attraction. Kaon had never been able to understand the appeal, and like sight, he didn’t miss what he didn’t have. 

“Deathsaurus is on _the List_ ,” Helex answered immediately. 

“Was,” Kaon corrected. “ _Was_ on the List.” 

“And everyone on the List was bad news,” Helex huffed. “Tarn can do better.” 

Kaon turned to Tesarus. Tes shrugged. “It’s yucky.” 

At least Helex had given a coherent reason, however misguided and stubborn. “Was it _yucky_ with Megatron?” Kaon asked Tesarus. 

“Megatron didn’t hang around giving Tarn sparkle optics,” Tesarus muttered, “and Tarn never held hands with Megatron under the conference table.” 

“So,” Kaon summarized, “you don’t care if they frag each other’s bolts off, but you can’t cope with the romance.” He sighed. “Do you two idiots realize that Tarn’s been mostly sober for the better part of a month?” 

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Helex demanded. 

“Has Nickel told you that his T-cog is healing up?” 

“What?” Tesarus spluttered. Because of course all of them knew that Tarn’s T-cogs were always undergoing progressive stages of burnout. He never stopped transforming long enough for them to _heal_. Not until now. 

“Has Vos told you that he hasn’t come around sniffing for nuke?” 

“So?” Helex sneered. 

“ _So_ have you considered that Tarn might be better off for his infatuation with Deathsaurus? It’s certainly distracting him from his usual vices.” 

“It’s distracting him from hanging out with _us_ ,” Tesarus grumbled. 

“Would you rather have more personal evaluation sessions?” Kaon asked sarcastically. Tesarus looked conflicted, wringing his hands. 

“Come on,” Helex growled, “just let me see the file.” 

Kaon handed over his datapad, but as he did so, he commented, “Maybe you could stop thinking about yourselves for five minutes and think about what’s good for Tarn for a change.” 

“Tarn can look after himself,” Tesarus countered. “He’s always telling us that.” 

_Which didn’t make it true_ , Kaon thought, but before he could say anything, Helex spoke. 

“Yeah, and if we care about him at all we’ll watch his back around _shifty criminals_ like…” Helex suddenly paused, clicking buttons on the datapad. “Hey. _Heyyyy.”_

Kaon wouldn’t dignify that with a response, but Tesarus would. “Hey what?” Tes asked. 

“Deathsaurus is lying to Tarn,” Helex said gleefully. “Like, about his _real name_.” 

“I _knew_ it,” Tes exclaimed. “ _Nobody_ looks at their new creation and decides to call it _Deathsaurus_.” 

Kaon wished he had optics to roll. “So I suppose you’ve introduced yourselves to the Warworld crew as Crucible and Scissorsaw?” 

“Titles don’t count,” Helex countered. 

“Lots of mechanisms change their names,” Kaon said. He wondered what Helex and Tesarus would think if they knew that Tarn himself had more than one prior name. When Helex and Tesarus had met Tarn, he’d been going by his original name, albeit with a few more honorifics: Commandant Damus, Warlord of Grindcore. When Kaon had met Tarn, well…Glitch and Amp, the _amica endura_ outsiders in the Outliers’ Dugout, were not identities that either of them wished to brag about. 

“So what’s Deathy’s real name?” Tes asked. “Hope it’s something stupid.” 

“It’s…” Helex squinted. “Scimitar.” 

“Damn,” Tesarus muttered. “That actually sounds kind of cool. Matches that sword he carries.” 

“Bet it’ll still piss him off though.” Helex’s smirk was big enough for Kaon’s echolocation to pick it up. “And hey, if he’s lying about his name, I wonder what else he’s lying about?” 

That statement didn’t sit well with Kaon. Deathsaurus was a lot of things, but a _liar_ he was not. If _anything_ , Deathsaurus was the type to get in trouble for speaking unwelcome _truth_. From the moment the DJD had arrived on the Warworld, Deathsaurus had greeted them with a very clear message: what you see is what you get—take it or leave it. 

“I’m washing my hands of this,” Kaon said. “Whatever trouble you two stir up, leave me out of it.” 

It was impossible for him to work while Helex had his datapad, so he whistled for the Pet and spent the next few minutes coaxing the turbofox into his lap for scritches while Helex read passages from Deathsaurus’s file out loud and Tesarus unconvincingly pretended to be monitoring the virus scans. 

“Hey, listen to _this_ ,” Helex said, in a way that suggested he’d just read something juicy, when the computer room door slid open. 

“Listen to what?” Deathsaurus inquired as he entered the room. 

“Nothing,” Tesarus said quickly. “Anything we can help you with?” 

“You seen Tarn?” Deathsaurus asked. He didn’t even bother feigning innocence. His EM field pulsated like an aurora borealis. 

“No,” Helex growled, “and by the way, we’reonto you, _Scimitar of the First Urayan Offensive_.” __

Deathsaurus stopped, regarded him for a moment, and broke out laughing. 

Helex spluttered angrily. “We know you got that fancy sword of yours because you failed the shooting test _three times_ , too _.”_

“Is that what your files say?” Deathsaurus inquired once he was able to speak. He wiped at his upper optics. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Tarn how inaccurate they are.” 

“You’re bluffing,” Helex snapped. 

Kaon immediately knew Helex had made a critical error. Everything Kaon knew of Deathsaurus suggested that bluffing wasn’t his style. Deathsaurus was far more likely to proclaim something, wait until someone tried to call him on it, and then take great delight in proving his proclamation correct. Deathsaurus _wanted_ his bluff called, because he always meant exactly what he said. 

Deathsaurus folded his arms, all laughter gone, and said, “Ask Tesarus to double check the file records.” He rattled off a string of identifiers and dates, followed by a series of passwords. 

At the computer, Tesarus typed furiously. When he spoke, his voice was shaky. “Deathsaurus is right. This entry was hacked and altered millions of years ago.” 

Deathsaurus rolled all four optics. Kaon could hear them rotating in their sockets. “Lyzack helped me steal that identity very early in our acquaintance.” 

Helex radiated dismay and confusion. “ _Deathsaurus_ cannot seriously be your real name.” 

Deathsaurus didn’t have a snarky answer. His EM field flickered with confusion of his own. “Wait, didn’t I get put on the List for killing Scimitar?” 

“No,” Tesarus said grudgingly. “Though apparently you should have been.” 

Deathsaurus spluttered. “What about Nadir? Windshear? Atrocitus?” 

Helex scrolled through the file on Kaon’s datapad. “None of those names here.” 

Deathsaurus’s wings flared, and Kaon supposed that Helex had gotten what he wanted, in a sense: he’d finally gotten under Deathsaurus’s plating. Whether he’d enjoy being there was another matter altogether, particularly when Deathsaurus loosed a bestial growl before demanding, “Well, if I wasn’t on your stupid List for murdering superior officers, then what in the Pit _was_ I on the List for?” 

Helex and Tesaurus just stared at him. 

“Category Five infraction,” Tesarus managed at last. “Grand Theft, Warworld.” 

Deathsaurus’s voice rose into a roar. “I was on the List for being a _thief_?” 

Helex clearly didn’t like having an agitated warlord so close to him, what with Deathsaurus’s wings spread to make him look even bigger than he already was, and his claws, on both his main hands and his wing hands, hooked to attack, and all those optics flickering wildly enough for Kaon’s sensors to clearly detect four flares of heat. “Category Five theft is pretty bad,” Helex said, trying to soothe Deathsaurus. “Warworlds are expensive and there’s strategic consequences to losing one, which adds an element of treason…” 

Deathsaurus suddenly froze in place. His EM field retracted to almost nothing, and to Kaon’s sensors it was as though the warlord had all but disappeared, save for his echolocation outline, a motionless statute. “What category was I before?” he asked quietly, and somehow Kaon found the sudden stillness scarier than the wing-flaring, claw-curling, roaring threat display. 

“Um…” Helex scrolled madly. “You…weren’t?” He cast a desperate glance at Tesarus. 

Tesarus opened a section of code. “Yeah, Deathsaurus’s entry on the List was created two weeks after the Warworld went missing, when we got proof the theft was intentional and not due to enemy interference or equipment malfunction.” 

Deathsaurus curled his hands into fists, and just then, the computer room door slid open. 

Tarn stepped into the room, radiating mild surprise. “Oh. Here you are,” he said to Deathsaurus. “I was wondering…” 

“You put me on the List after I stole the Warworld!” Deathsaurus accused. 

Tarn just blinked. “Did you really think we wouldn’t notice an entire Warworld and its crew missing?” 

“You told me I was already _on_ the List!” Deathsaurus exploded. 

Tarn was startled enough to actually a step back. “What?” 

“ _You_ remember. That Enclave at the Kalis Conference Center. You came up behind me and instead of introducing yourself like a civilized person, you _loomed_ over my shoulder and whispered something in my audio about _having your eye on me_.” 

“Well, but,” Tarn stammered, far from his usual eloquence, “that’s not the same as _being on the List_.” Tarn wrung his hands. “For your information, I did that _eye on you_ routine to everyone on the High Command. Scare them into behaving, you know.” 

“Well, but,” Deathsaurus countered, “it backfired, right?” Deathsaurus waved his arms in the air to emphasize his point. “Because I figured I was _already on the List_ and had nothing left to lose. I went back to my unit and started making _serious_ plans to grab the Warworld and run.” 

“You know that most people’s response to thinking they’re on the List was to plead for mercy from myself or Megatron. Starscream certainly did it often enough.” Tarn folded his arms tightly across his chest. “I think Megatron called me to put Starscream on the List just so he could listen to Starscream beg his way back off again.” 

“And _my_ response to thinking I was on the List was to damned well _earn it_ , then, and go down in style.” Deathsaurus put his hands on his hips and glared back at Tarn. “When there’s nothing left to lose, why not take the chance?” 

Kaon held his breath as Tarn and Deathsaurus stared each other down for five seconds…thirty seconds…a minute… 

And then both of them broke out laughing. 

Kaon felt his spark glowing, and he ruffled the Pet’s fur. The turbofox bunted him, cuddling close. It had been a long time since he’d heard Tarn laugh like this—warm, genuine, devoid of bitterness or irony. 

Kaon dared shift his perception sideways. Helex’s lip curled in disgust. Tesarus’s EM field radiated chaotic waves that Kaon typically associated with physical illness. 

Helex said caustically, “Tarn, maybe you should know that your _ally_ here has confessed to a habit of _assassinating his commanders_ and that’s why he thought he was on the List when you gave him the _eye on you_ routine.” 

Tesarus sniffed. “ _And_ stealing their identities. At least once.” 

Tarn stopped laughing. “Is that true? Should I be worried?” 

“I was protecting my crew.” Deathsaurus sounded wounded. “And _no,_ you don’t have to worry, I’ve got no qualms about killing Megatron if you need the help.” His wing-claws clattered softly. “You’re my crewmates now.” 

Helex rolled his optics. “You know, _anyone else_ would try to prove he wasn’t a threat to Tarn…” 

“Why would I be a threat to my own crewmate?” Deathsaurus asked, as if Helex were an idiot, while moving towards Tarn protectively. 

“What about the identity theft?” Tesarus demanded desperately. 

“You think he’s going to kill me and replace me?” Tarn replied archly. “Do you really think Deathsaurus would look good in a mask?” 

Tarn and Deathsaurus exchanged conspiratorial glances and started laughing again. 

“Not enough eye holes,” Deathsaurus wisecracked. 

“I give up,” Helex groaned, tossing Kaon’s datapad back to him. 

Kaon caught it just in time, before it hit the Pet. “Careful.” 

“Come on, Tes,” Helex muttered. “Let’s go see what Vos is up to.” 

Tesarus didn’t need to be asked twice. The two big bots beat a hasty retreat, and Tarn seemed too wrapped up in Deathsaurus to care. 

Kaon picked up the datapad and activated his wireless connection so he could perceive the screen. Helex was right…their file on Deathsaurus listed him as _Scimitar of the First Urayan Offensive_ , a MTO constructed cold in the middle of the war. If Deathsaurus had, in fact, killed Scimitar and taken his weapon and his identity, then who had Deathsaurus been before, and where were those records? Had he faked his own death, or was he still listed as missing in action? 

Deathsaurus and Tarn wandered off together, still murmuring and laughing to one another, and while Kaon still felt that Deathsaurus was good for Tarn, Helex and Tesarus’s meddling had raised questions he could not overlook. 

Kaon carefully eased the Pet off his lap, went over to Tesarus’s computer, activated Banzaitron’s database of Decepticon personnel, and ran a search for Scimitar of the First Urayan Offensive. 

The images with the oldest time stamps were of a mech approximately the same size as Deathsaurus, though the wings on his back were those of a jet and his frame was painted a paler shade of blue. Kaon examined the image inside his own head via a download straight to his brain. He constructed a three-dimensional wire frame, cross-referenced it with Deathsaurus’s, and almost laughed. They were obviously not the same mech. Not unless Scimitar had undergone a radical frame reconfiguration into the fantastic beast that was Deathsaurus’s alt, and changed his spark signature as well. 

Kaon scanned the data, particularly the point where “Scimitar” became “Deathsaurus,” and he did not find any evidence of Scimitar’s presence in a clinic around that time. He did, however, find evidence of Scimitar’s presence on the front lines of the war, a place of chaos and confusion and the fog of battle. A place where one mech might step easily into the role of another. 

Kaon also noted that “Scimitar-Deathsaurus” was a much more effective commander than the original Scimitar. It seemed that most of Deathsaurus’s promotions were earned honestly. Scimitar’s identity had given Deathsaurus the rank of a unit commander, and he’d never looked back. 

_Who were you? Where did you come from?_

Disquieted, Kaon sat back in his chair, thinking. Did Tarn know Deathsaurus’s true origin? Probably not. 

…Had Deathsaurus seen under Tarn’s mask? Also probably not. 

Even Kaon knew precious little about Tarn’s early life. When they’d met, everyone had called him Glitch. Kaon knew his original name was Damus, but Damus of what? Glitch had never said where he was from, or what he’d done—who he’d been—before the empurata. 

Kaon supposed that everyone had their secrets. 

Maybe he should let it go. But not knowing rankled. Perhaps Kaon was just embarrassed that the DJD’s files on Deathsaurus had been so inaccurate and so woefully incomplete. He prided himself on accurate records, and he’d bungled this one. He’d failed to see through Deathsaurus’s admittedly clever deception. 

…It seemed that Deathsaurus could lie, after all. 

Kaon figured there would be no harm in searching through the records a little more. There was no guarantee he would find anything. 

And while Kaon still thought it was good for Tarn to have someone to focus his attentions on—someone who, unlike Megatron, actually returned his affections—Kaon admitted that there might, in fact, be a need for someone to look out for Tarn’s best interests. Just in case Deathsaurus was hiding some deadly secret behind his friendly smile. 

Kaon pulled up Deathsaurus’s file one more time and winced at the initial summary. _Mercurial. Impulsive. Illogical._ Deathsaurus’s behaviour looked erratic and nonsensical through the lens of Decepticon—no, _Cybertronian_ culture. Kaon knew better now. Deathsaurus had his own set of values and ethics and everything he did was in service to them and the defense of his crew. 

_His Crew and his Cause—indivisible. And utter ruthlessness towards outsiders._

Kaon relaxed. As long as Deathsaurus saw Tarn as his crewmate, Tarn would be safe with him. Safe from both Deathsaurus himself, and from anyone who dared threaten him in Deathsaurus’s presence. Kaon could take comfort in that, at least. 

But Kaon stayed up late anyway, digging through long-forgotten files and staticky old recordings, chasing the secrets of a fabulous monster, and watching his _amica endura_ ’s back the best way he knew how. 

**Author's Note:**

> So....Yes, Deathsaurus has issues and even secrets, and the next long story will start digging into them.


End file.
